Things Unattainable
by MistressKitty-chibi
Summary: Rogue hits rock bottom, but just might have the opportunity of a lifetime.


Title: Things Unattainable 

Author: MistressKitty Wolverine just might have what Rogue needs.

Rating: PG. (only minor violence) Category: Angst, X1

Notes: The lack of quotations is supposed to be artsy. Most characters are not mine. Lamb is mine, however, and may not be stolen. Archival with permission. Thanks to WhiteShadow, my muse eternal. You help me spin the wheels in my brain that I thought had been forever rusted shut, and sometimes you don't even know it. To Soft-Blankie, you have been my blankie friend for a long time, and sometimes you help me to visualize the stories in my head. Thanks to Boo Radley for the beta.

Things Unattainable

Part 1: Death

"Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep

And doesn't know where to find them."

He's gone again. He returned for a week and two days in which he tormented Scott, teased Jean, smoked cigars in the Professor's office and wasn't quite sure what to do with Rogue. When he faded from her mind, she lost him. She never managed to reclaim him when he came back so the sting didn't burn so badly as she watched him fly down the drive on Scott's new bike. She just wrapped her arms around herself and walked slowly back to her room.

For a few days whenever she left her room questions bounced around her. Hey, Rogue. Are you all right? Fine. You don't look so good. I'm fine. How are you, Rogue. Fine. Fine, fine, always fine. She would flash a bit of a smile as she adjusted her scarf and gloves and walked the other way down the hall. They started to believe her, when she said she was fine. Though Jean kept reminding them that she might still be affected by Wolverine's presence in her mind, her smiles seemed genuine and she kept up a nice conversation.

Then they were gathered at the dinner table, the only sounds those of quiet murmurs of pass the potatoes or may I use the salt? Everyone saw the subtle glance that Jean and Scott shared and sat up a little straighter and lowered his or her forks. Jean smiled, and unless a heart was made of steel, it melted. Everyone kind of worshipped Jean, she had such an easy manner, hard not to genuinely care for her. So when she gripped Scott's hand under the table and announced quietly that she was pregnant, ripples of surprise, excitement, and love laced with concern and pride flowed through the group. The Professor was the first to offer his congratulations, and Jean glowed.

There was no one to make jokes with Scott about Jean's state. There was no one to suddenly remember to put out his cigar when Jean would enter the room. There was no one to hold Rogue as she would fall, exhausted, into her bed every night, tired from trying in vain to get her smile to reach her eyes. She would wearily eye her gloves, her long sleeves, scarf… she would hold her hands over her womb and feel a lonely tear slip down when it felt cold. There was no one reassure her, no one to distract her from those unattainable things. There was no one to soften the blow.

Everyone sits around the breakfast table this time. Jean doesn't show yet but there are changes in her face. The Professor clears his throat, and even those who are still hazy with sleep look up to the head of the table. He looks at Scott and nods a little as he says that Logan is coming home, and that he's bringing a girl. Everyone makes the appropriate face of approval and assenting noise. Rogue excuses herself to wash dishes even though she hasn't eaten more than one bite of cereal.

Streaming tap water drowns out the happy noises from the dining room. Her gloves are off and she swirls the scalding water to form bubbles from the dishwashing soap. She turns off the water as the bubbles rise, threatening for soapy membranes filled with air. Professor X is continuing to speak. He says that Logan's girl is quite a sweet one; a mutant, or else he wouldn't be bringing her here. Logan's girl. That burns more than the water and suddenly there is a sharp, hot knife in her hand and blood is dripping from her left palm into the sudsy water.

Part 2: Birth

"Mary had a little lamb

Fleece as white as snow

And everywhere that Mary went

The lamb was sure to go."

There was a pervasive silence filling the Med Lab as Jean carefully wrapped Rogue's left hand in light gauze. They were superficial cuts and the bleeding had all but stopped, but the way Rogue's eyes looked; dead, pained, made Jean nervous. Suddenly, the door flung open, crashing through to fill the room with sound. Wolverine stood by the door, breathing loudly as Rogue slid off of the cot and walked out. She didn't even look up at him when she wryly welcomed him home.

Some super-sonic message had been transmitted to everyone. They stayed away from her. She sat staring at the blank television set, her gauze itching and her body stiff and heavy. Wolverine entered the room, and tried to make eye contact before he sat ungracefully on the ground in front of Rogue. He started talking, not waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. The Professor sent me out to look for new recruits. He had been messing around in Cerebro and found a list of newly manifested mutant powers. He was only able to bring one home and would she like to meet her?

Something twisted inside of her and in some ways, it felt good. Almost as good as that knife slicing her skin. She closed her eyes and nodded resolutely, ready and willing to face this new enemy. When Wolverine grasped her right hand, she choked a little, but followed him down a hallway to a block of rooms she knew were empty because her room was at the end of them. For the quiet, she thought. For the isolation, muttered everyone. A few doors down from Rogue's room, Wolverine turned a handle and lead them inside. Storm was sitting on a low bed next to a little girl child. A child? Here you go, Logan, I think she wants you. Sudden and subtle, Storm was gone and the young girl was staring up at Rogue warily.

Only part of her listened to Logan's explanation. The Professor sent me to find new recruits. Got her from an orphanage. Rogue stared into the eyes of the little girl. They didn't have a name on record for her… I've been calling her Lamb even though she is almost five. Rogue took a deep breath and looked to Logan's face. Why's that? Why do you call her Lamb? Logan chuckled. Oh, you'll see when she stops being shy and talks for us.

Something helped Rogue hold out her gloved hand to the child. Somehow, hope for all of them rested on the girl's childlike affection. Lamb looked to Logan, and then reached out to touch and poke at Rogue's hand. Ba, baa, Lamb whispered softly. Rogue marveled at the innocent touch, and at the truth of Logan's words. There was a question unspoken in Rogue's eyes as she moved her other hand to brush at Lamb's stringy blond hair.

She kills the powers of the ones who she touches. But only for when she is touching them. When Rogue's hands started shaking, she clasped them together and set them in her lap. A-are you sure? I mean, have you tested it out? Unbidden, tiny, wet tears welled in her eyes. Of course, Marie. I was holdin' her and I stepped on a nail. Some kinda pain and no healing at all until I set her down. It's real, Marie. You can touch her. Rogue thought; I can touch him.

Lamb liked the white streak in Rogue's hair. Rogue struggled to remove her satin gloves, excitement, worry, uncertainty/hope/ ran through her veins. Hi Lamb, Rogue intoned, hesitantly touching her clothed shoulder. Lamb baa'ed and grabbed onto Rogue's hand. There was a momentary panic, but there was no pull. It was more like a switch went dead inside of Rogue. But oh God did another one come back on… Rogue gasped and gripped onto Lamb's hand tighter. She held out shaky fingers to Logan, who took them in his own. So warm, calloused… /home/. For a moment, everyone just concentrated on breathing, but when Logan brought his hand to cradle Rogue's cheek, all breathing stopped. Hafta stay slow, Rogue gasped. Nice, but so much. So much.

Rogue released Logan first, and then Lamb and fell back onto the bed, replacing her gloves in deft movements while she caught her breath. She turned her head to the side to see Logan holding little Lamb and looking at her tenderly. Thank you. Rogue closed her eyes, I needed that. Lamb stood next to Rogue and played with her hair. For the first time ever, someone was inches from her skin and she was not afraid. Logan stood, and started pacing a bit. The Professor thought you might be interested in running a school for younger mutants. They are manifesting at earlier ages more frequently, and for certain these kids need someone like you to watch over them, and love them. They'd be, Logan looked strongly into Rogue's eyes, they'd be like your own children.

Rogue's smile slowly took over her whole face, her whole body. Lamb started baa'ing excitedly. You know, if you could help me, they could be… They could be like our children. Her voice trailed off but then recovered strongly with Logan's warm look. Kids really love you, you know. I-I really love you… you know.

fin


End file.
